


Being undercover never felt so good

by justmarcialima



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Napoleon, Illya is a cinnamon roll, M/M, Missing Scene, Napoleon is a Little Shit, Napoleon is a Tease, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Top Illya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 08:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5820601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justmarcialima/pseuds/justmarcialima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene from the Movie. What if Victoria found Napoleon with Illya instead of alone on his bedroom?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Being undercover never felt so good

**Author's Note:**

> First fanfic on this fandom that I joined really two days ago. But I couldn't help myself. It's not my first gay fanfic though so that's gotta count to something, right? *sweats nervously*   
> Anyways I hope you enjoy. I did. Ah and english is not my first language so... Any mistakes are my fault.

Solo didn’t actually believed that working alongside Illya could somehow work but it could have been much worse. I mean, Illya almost died drowned and Napoleon himself had almost been shot several times but they made it in one piece, mostly. Of course the night didn’t ended there though. Both of them rushed back to the Hotel on a tiny bike, which was tough because Napoleon was tall but Illya was a giant, and found Victoria Vinciguerra at the front desk asking for “Jack” or whatever it was Napoleon’s alias on that mission. The running through the stairs started, Kuryakin of course was way ahead of Solo, but they managed to get on their floor at the same time, because Napoleon ran faster. Illya was going to his room when Solo stopped him. 

\- Where are you going? – He asked. 

\- To mine and Gaby’s room. 

\- No, come here! – He whispered-yelled at the Russian. Illya looked at him with a frown on his face. – I need you as a distraction. 

\- Pardon? – Illya’s eyebrows arose. 

Solo rolled his eyes. 

\- Just follow me, Peril. – Solo entered his hotel room and Illya followed him, against his better judgment. 

\- Shut the door. – Solo said, taking off his already dry black jacket and staying only in his black tank top. Illya did what he asked, still intrigued about what he was doing there. 

\- Cowboy, will you tell me what I am doing here? – Kuryakin walked towards Solo, but didn’t got the answer he was expecting. 

Instead, he was surprised to find Solo’s lips and body crushed into his, his hands digging into Illya’s blond hair and his tongue seeking passage between his surprised open lips. The Russian pushed Napoleon away but the American only let their heads to part slightly. Solo’s lips were pink and Illya’s cheeks were burning. 

\- What the fuck are you doing, Napoleon? – Illya asked in a harsh tone, but lost the effect because his voice was ragged. 

\- Victoria needs to believe that I was doing something better than answering the phone. – He rolled his eyes. – Now, just act into it ok? She’ll be here soon. 

Illya mused on his options. If he didn’t do something soon their mission would fail and they would be most likely dead in minutes, so he kissed Solo because it wasn’t the worst case scenario he could think about. His hands grabbed the brunette’s thighs and lifted him up making Napoleon goddamn squeal in surprise and wrap his legs around Kuryakin’s waist. 

\- Oh my Gosh, you’re strong. – That made Illya smirk and walk them to the bed, dropping Napoleon unceremoniously and dragging his body deliciously across the shorter’s. 

\- Shut up, Cowboy. – His lips turned upward in Illya’s version of a smile and he started kissing Napoleon’s jaw and neck. 

\- I didn’t know you had those moves. – Solo bit his lip to muffle the moan he felt rising on his throat. 

\- I’m resourceful. – He bit down on Solo’s Adam’s apple, making the American spy release the groan he was holding back. 

Napoleon was frustrated at not being the one doing the teasing so he flipped the both on them on the bed, sitting atop the blonde Russian and grinding his bottom against the other man’s crotch. Illya did moan then, to Solo’s happiness.   
Was a euphemism to say that both of them had totally forgotten about Victoria, who was currently in the room watching them rut against each other. It was an arousing surprise to find the scene instead of an empty room, but she wasn’t complaining. She dispatched her two henchmen and stayed behind to watch a little more. 

\- Apparently someone’s very excited at this opportunity. – Solo teased in a panting voice as he felt Kuryakin’s clothed hard member poking his ass. 

Illya dragged his big hand across Napoleon’s dark curls, his jaw, his chest and his abs until he cupped the bulge in Solo’s dark pants and squeezed. 

\- I’m not the only one. – He said, sitting down.

Napoleon found Illya’s lips in the middle and they kissed again. This time more passionately. Napoleon’s tongue dragged along Illya’s with gusto and confidence while the taller man’s was a bit hesitant but with the same passion. Solo started dragging down the zipper of Illya’s jacket but were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. Both of they separated their mouths to find the source of the sound, founding Victoria. The person they were supposed to be making out to. 

\- Victoria! – Illya didn’t knew if Napoleon was actually surprised or if he was faking it, but he sounded genuine enough. 

\- I’m sorry. – She wasn’t. – I called you several times but you didn’t answer, so I had to check on you. 

\- That’s very nice of you. – He glanced towards Illya and then looked at her again. 

\- Isn’t that the fiancé of Rudi’s niece? – She raised an eyebrow. 

Solo, being the wonderful actor that he was, gave a nervous chuckle. 

\- Please don’t tell any of them. – He pleaded. – We would like to keep it quiet. – He winked and she laughed. 

\- Your secret is safe with me. – She looked at her watch. – As much as I would love to watch or join, I need to attend to a meeting. I’ll see you tomorrow. – She said over her shoulder as she closed the door behind her on the way out. Both spies exhaled in relieve and Solo dropped his head on Illya’s head. The blonde started to idly play with his dark hair. 

\- That was a close call. – Napoleon raised his head and looked at the Russian eyes. 

\- It was. – Kuryakin said. – I should go now. 

He made to get off from under Solo’s body but the man only grounded his hips more firmly against the soviet spy. 

\- You’re not going anywhere, Peril. – Solo said in a surprisingly firm voice, all pretense gone from his demeanor. – I won’t let you flee away from this. – He pointed his finger at their conjoined bodies. – I saw something. A spark before Victoria got here and I would like to see that spark of emotion again. 

\- I don’t know what you’re saying cowboy. – Illya’s jaw tensed. – It was clearly a ruse. 

Solo rolled his eyes and grinded his hips against the Russian’s that groaned. 

\- You were saying? – He raised an eyebrow in smugness. 

\- Don’t look so smug. – Illya rolled his eyes but relented and finally kissed Napoleon again with all his might. 

The fire was quickly reignited. Solo started grinding again, this time with Illya’s hips meeting up with his. Napoleon tugged out Illya’s jacket and shirt, discarding the items away from them on the ground.   
There was a long time that Illya didn’t felt masculine hands roaming his body and he remembered that he terribly missed it, especially if it was Napoleon’s hands. Solo skilled pinched Kuryakin’s pink nipples making the man squirm beneath him. Napoleon smirked despite of the Russian’s advice to tone down his smugness. Illya in a counter act ripped off the American’s tank top and throwed away the remaining rags, grabbing handfuls of Solo’s ass and grinding harder against him, mouthing at the pale neck of Napoleon. 

\- That tank top was expensive. – He said in between gasps. 

\- I bet. – The blonde man smirked, nipping at Solo’s collarbone. 

\- You’ll pay me back. – Solo groaned as he felt Illya’s tongue and mouth on his right nipple. 

\- When Hell freezes over. – His accent was thicker because of his arousal and that only made Napoleon’s cock harder. 

\- Take those off. – He fingered the hem of Illya’s trousers. 

\- Only if you take yours off. – Illya almost laughed at the speed that Napoleon kneeled on the bed to take off the rest of his clothes. Both disposed of their trousers and underwear pretty quickly and Solo didn’t waste any time. He bended and engulfed the head of the Russian’s cock, making Illya gasp loudly at the unexpected act. 

\- Блядь! – The Russian cursed as he felt the skilled tongue of the spy. Napoleon’s tongue was circling the head and slit of his cock in sloppy licks, drooling over his cock and making it wet. He started to engulf the rest of Kuryakin’s cock making little wanton whines and slurping sounds. Illya let his head drop backwards on the bed, closing his eyes and enjoying the wet heat of Napoleon’s mouth. His hand found solace in the American’s dark mane, caressing and pulling as he saw fit. 

Soon though, he felt that Napoleon was whining louder and groaning more, vibrating deliciously along his shaft and also was sloppier in his blowjob. Illya opened his eyes to find the man’s right hand buried behind himself opening himself up. Kuryakin moaned loudly and pulled Napoleon's mouth out of his cock by his hair. The man released Illya’s cock in a sinful pop and Illya attacked that pretty pink and swollen mouth with his own. As they separated he asked:

\- Do you have a condom? 

Solo rolled his eyes. A few tendrils of his hair falling on his flushed face. Napoleon looked completely debauched and the vision made Illya smile. 

\- Of course I have a condom, Peril. – He stretched to the bedside table and grabbed the condom and a bottle of KY lube. Napoleon ripped off the package with his teeth and rolled the condom on Illya’s member while stroking him a little.   
Illya flipped the spy’s body with ease and started kissing the length of his spine until he reached his bottom. He kneads the flesh with both hands, growling deep at the depth of his throat at the sight of Napoleon’s pert ass. 

\- Seeing you open yourself for me drove me mad. – He bit down on one of Napoleon’s cheeks, marking the local with his teeth. Solo groaned at the pain and pleasure that the act ensured within himself. 

\- I feel like you’re already a little mad, Peril. – He chuckled but moaned as he felt Illya’s wet tongue prodding at his pink puckered hole. Solo dropped his head and buried it in the pillow beneath him, groaning loudly at the pressure Illya’s tongue was making inside of him. 

\- I might be. – The Russian laughed a little and stopped his ministrations, drowning a frustrated whine from Solo. 

Illya grabbed the lube and coated his cock in it as well as Napoleon’s hole, inside and out. The American groaned as he felt the Russian’s fingers inside him but soon they were being replaced by his cock. 

Napoleon’s hole was tight, wet and hot and it felt like home for Illya’s cock. Both men grunted as they felt Kuryakin’s member sheathed to the hilt and he waited until Napoleon relaxed to the intrusion to move. 

But soon they were both moving in sync, Illya pounding into Napoleon’s ass, while Solo pushed and wiggled against him moaning like a wanton whore. Curses were being said in various different languages followed by grunts, growls, moans and groans out of both of their mouths. 

Illya felt the familiar rush of his orgasm embarrassingly early, so he manhandled Solo until he was on his knees in front of him to stroke his cock. With the new stimulation and the head of Illya’s cock brushing sweetly against his prostate with every thrust Napoleon came with a groan and Illya’s name on his tongue, spurting white against Kuryakin’s hand and the sheet beneath them. With orgasm hitting the American, the Russian wasn’t that far behind. A few more thrust and he was coming inside the condom. Both men fell down exhausted on the bed after their came, riding down the rush of their orgasms. Napoleon felt the little pants of Illya’s in his ear and smiled, feeling the other man’s cock soften inside of him still. 

A few moments later Illya drove away and went to the bathroom to dispose of the condom, coming back with a wet cloth to clean Napoleon’s chest and try his chances at the sheets. Feeling like he did an okay job he laid down on the bed and Napoleon curled against his body with a sigh. 

\- So much for hating each other. – The American spy said, making Illya chuckle. 

Solo gasped at the sound. 

\- Was that a laugh? I didn’t knew you were capable of such sounds, Peril. – He teased. 

\- Just another sound you didn’t knew I could make, Cowboy. But now you do. 

\- Oh and a joke? – Napoleon gasped exaggeratedly – Damn, I must be good. 

\- Shut up, Napoleon. – Illya said in an affectionate tone. 

Napoleon did indeed shut up after that, basking in the moonlight and his lover’s arms. That was until the door to Napoleon’s room opened in a bang when a frantic looking Gaby entered through it. 

\- NAPOLEON! – She yelled. – I CAN’T FIND ILLYA ANYWHERE I THINK THEY GOT HIM AND- - She stopped talking as she saw the both men entangled and naked on the bed. Gaby immediately blushed and turned around, spluttering apologies while both men looked very amused at each other. – Ok, so Illya is fine. – She stuttered. – More than fine, apparently. I’ll see myself out now, ok? Okay. – With that she was gone and everything was calm again. 

Until both Illya and Napoleon busted out laughing. 

They laughed for a good time and ended up smiling at each other and going at it again. 

Later as they finally decided to sleep, it was with the promise that the tomorrow would be different and better.

**Author's Note:**

> The Russian word is "Fuck" according to google translator since I don't speak russian. Unfortunately


End file.
